Life as King
by featherliterature
Summary: As far as Alfred knew, he was only but a mere character. Adventurous Alfred sets off to transcend universes, more specifically Cardverse. Little did he know the laws of nature upon being bent would come back and nip him in the ass. *You can read this without having read Part 1: 'Mr. Kirkland and Alfred the Elevator' and still understand it though 'Life as King' is the sequel.


Alfred swung the door open with all the prowess of a hero, only to witness it tear away from the hinge; flinging itself through the light pink fluffy clouds. Retreating backwards, Alfred turned towards the hole the door had made in the clouds; which scared him for he had overlooked his vulnerability and placed his life in the hands of the clouds whom were not all that trustworthy.

With streaks of venomous dark purple and a nightmarish black coiling around shades of cherry blossom pink orbiting around the central sky blue, the vortex which appeared to be the guardsman of the universe which lay beyond the otherwise void door was a complete juxtaposition between a 'Happy Ever After' and a 'Dead End'. Alfred gulped, his eyes glued to the continuous rotation, almost sucking him in. Except it did: an irrepressible urge came over him and he couldn't stop himself from walking nearer and nearer towards the vortex. His hand as though having a mind of its own reached out and forcibly penetrated the vortex. The color of it rubbed off and gradually dyed his whole hand a strange miscible color, spreading to his entire body rapidly like cancer cells.

Time transfixed, he was engulfed by the vortex completely, yet nothing but loops of green greeted him at the other end; that and the fact that he was still paralyzed served as a rude awakening of his conscious mind. Awakening to some sort of hypnosis ritual was far from what he wanted; as was being suspended in some vague space. As though on cue, the loops started vanishing, a bright light taking their place instead. And then the view changed from whatever it had been to one facing the eye-piercing sunlight. A force pushing Alfred outwards made him stumble and almost trip. He turned behind to identify the force but he watched in awe as the hole in the hedge rapidly became smaller while the rest of it was restored back to its original greenish colour.

Sensing a presence, Alfred quickly ducked down and hid behind the bushes just in front of him. After a few seconds, he poked out of the bushes; only to see a figure back-facing him. From the rather tall and slender build of the figure, he surmised that it must be that of a man. Alfred winced in pain as the sunlight that had bounced off the man's elegant purple velvet robes reflected into his eyes and he sought refuge by burying his face into the depths of the bushes — which unfortunately for him emitted a rustling sound and foiled his disguise.

"Who's there?" Alfred deduced from the voice that this must be the Cardverse counterpart of England. He thought that the Queen of Spades should be similar to the Iggy he knew for the most part. Just as he was about to stand up and identify himself, he realized: what if his counterpart, the King of Spades was wholly different from him and ordered for his head to be placed on the guillotine?

Even so, there was no room for regret as he heard the clip-clop of the Queen's shoes against the granular rocky ground advancing steadily towards him. Resigning himself to his fate, Alfred made an over the top show of standing up slowly before flashing the Queen a grin comparably bright to the ray of sunlight illuminating the whole courtyard; which he was now at a height to admire the vastness of. Arthur practically scoffed at him.

 _"Your Majesty,_ may I understand the reason behind your..." The aristocrat paused for dramatic effect before looking straight at Alfred and continuing on, _"ludicrous getup?"_

His voice dripped with a condescending British accent, demanding worship from a _superior, The King of Spades nonetheless._ Alfred was surprised, not at his demeanor but rather at all the ways his outfit was stunning: the royal robes that draped over his shoulders reached down to his brown sophisticated boots while the purple vest laced with a white ribbon compacted his chest well and tight. Arthur was wrapped up tight like a burrito, and it would be Alfred's pleasure to devour him. _Heck, I wouldn't mind being sent to the guillotine if it meant I could see Iggy in this._

"Hm?" Scorn lined the two ends of the aristocrat's lips, tugging it down. Alfred blinked, suddenly aware of the fact that his answer was due.

"Well then, please pardon my sense of adventure," Alfred shrugged casually, in contrast to his tense muscles; as he eyed the Queen Arthur's response eagerly.

He looked at Alfred, clearly unamused. "I highly doubt that by partaking in such undesirable activities such as voyeurism… while dressed in such plain wearing apparel is what you could dub a sense of adventure." He scoffed.

It was this moment that made Alfred realize the big fuss about this clothes: his white button-up shirt was simple; yet due to its unkemptness, it was far from eloquent. His jeans were worse, definitely not fit for a king. And gosh, all these leaves from the bushes had stuck to his clothes. _No wonder he's making such a fuss._

It took Alfred less than a minute to decide that he wanted to play the role of King. The Queen's already mistaken him as his spouse, so why not? _King Alfred's probably as good a guy as I am,_ Alfred reassured himself. Alfred watched as Arthur walked a few steps ahead before turning around and beckoning him, his brows furrowed.

"Arthuuur ~" Alfred closed up the distance between him and Arthur with just a few long strides. Startled, Arthur stared at him before looking away and continuing to walk.

"Don't be that way, babe." Alfred purred, breaking Arthur's momentum and making him pause momentarily. He turned around, sighing.

It was obvious to anyone that being spouses brought a whole lot of benefits. Alfred knew that, and he was ready to use it to his advantage.

Alfred slung an arm across Arthur's shoulder; he really wished he had been wearing a fedora so he could have taken it off and said, "m' lady", though who knows what would happen to him afterwards… probably not the best decision he would make in his life.

The intense glare Arthur shot him practically screamed relinquish or die. Alfred was an asshole and he knew it. "You wanna be more intimate?" He grinned cheekily, only to have his arm forcibly pried off of Arthur's shoulder. Muttering curses under his breath, Arthur either trusted that Alfred would follow and quickly walked on or he didn't care either way.

"Oops," Alfred exclaimed aloud, quickly closing up the gap between them. He glanced left and right only to see hedges modeled after various mythical creatures such as fairies, globins and elves. _Leave it to Iggy to be eccentric._

Just as he was about to make a remark, he realized he should be especially careful so as to avoid unintentionally outing his identity and so he limited the number of times he peered around like a child separated from his parents at a theme park. He didn't want to arouse Arthur's suspicion. Not when he was having such a great time.

Soon, a modest silvery palace came into view. It wasn't gaudy like you would expect of rich people who went all out. On the other hand, it was rather basic, the pillars were at the two ends, just right where the unspoken rule of ordinary palace architecture stated they should be: a definite balanced distance sporting between them as the balcony on the second-floor sat above. _That's... wise architecture right there,_ Alfred thought though he didn't particularly despise or like the place a great deal.

"Both your majesties," A servant with blonde hair slicked back, the highlight being a protruding strain of curled hair, donning a respectable butler's suit, bowed and greeted them as Alfred and Arthur neared the entrance. "Where would you like to have your afternoon tea?" His head remained bowed as Alfred felt an intense aura emitting from him. His vision began to fade into obscure pixels. Losing his balance, he stumbled forward, his knees giving way, only for him to be held up forcefully. The tightness of the grip numbed as Alfred closed his eyes.

 _He didn't choose the adventure. Rather, the adventure had chosen him._


End file.
